Breath by breath we'll leave this behind
by Len Bon
Summary: I won't grieve - it's not yet time. . . each breath breathed is keeping hope alive.
1. A crazy, manic and ironic laugh

_So, I really should have other things to do, and staring another multi-chapter is not a good way to acheive these thigns - still, here I am, writing yet another story that i may or may not finish. I'm hoping to finish this by May - I already have a plan? So here goes. . ._

_Quick note: This is set sometime. . . it isn't canon at all - in my head the Mcdonald-Venturi clan have been living together 2-3 years? I dunno :/ Poor planning and writing on my account but meh; just go with it?  
_

* * *

You would probably laugh at the irony if the ambulance wasn't speeding at 70mph. You'd laugh because she was always the stronger out of the two of you; she was always the real fighter out of you both; she was never meant to get hurt. Even now, as you push the laugh down your throat, past the massive lump that is lodged there, you can't help thinking that it should really be you, just like it always was.

* * *

When you were 5 and she was 11 and your parents had been fighting for nearly a year, you still bawled when they told the two of you that they were getting a divorce. For some reason, even though the bickering was near constant, it hadn't crossed your mind that they didn't love each other any more – all parents have issues, don't they? They told you and then you cried and cried and cried, and when either one, your mother or your father, tried to talk to you or comfort you, you just cried harder. . . you didn't think anybody could possibly fathom how you felt.  
Of course, you had forgotten all about Casey, your perfect sister. Even when she entered underneath the covers to your single bed and held you as you sobbed, you didn't realise that she shared all that pain with you. You were only 5 though, so you weren't exactly world weary. Still, it was when you eyes were sore and your throat ached that Casey remained ever close, hugging and whispering soothing words of comfort into your ear, telling you it would all work out.

* * *

You can't help but wonder when the roles became reversed. You are holding her hand, squeezing it so hard that the paramedic is giving you a warning look because Casey's hand is actually going white. You are leaning in ever closer and speak words to tell her how much she means to you, and how she has to pull through it, for everybody's sake, and you can't help but think that really you are taking on the role that she has performed for years. It really is about time you repaid the debt of 7 years back to her – why not start now?

* * *

When your mum told you that she'd met a new guy, you were less than thrilled. You hated it and him and the concept of your mother moving on. Yes, it had been 3 years now and you'd accepted your parents marriage was most definitely over, but it still sucked. You thought Casey had agreed too.  
Your mother suggested one night that you meet George and his family, so that you would see how absolutely wonderful he was and why your mum was so taken with him. You'd refused outright, been a brat and sulked. It was Casey who was finally able to convince you to go, for the sake of your mum. She had always had a way with words, even at the age of 13.

* * *

You hear your mum before you see her. You've just spent the last half an hour praying and praying for Casey. She has to get better because she is the only sister you have, and you love her. God, you really wish you had told her that more often – e.g. every day. Still, when you finally open your eyes, having dutifully said "Amen" in your mind, she is practically in front of you. She wants to know everything and you don't even know where to begin.

* * *

When you first heard about the wedding, you had been so excited. You'd bounced up and down, begging your mum for the chance to be a bridesmaid, because hey, you are still only 8, and a half. However, it was when the day started to approach that anxiety crept in, which was most absurd. You really liked George and each of his three kids, and you had pretty much adjusted to them and the idea of living with each other. You couldn't really place why you were nervous.  
On the day of the wedding, you started to show traits of your sister and your mum and the freak out began. Suddenly, running away had become really promising, thus naturally, you ditched. Casey was the one to find you. Casey was the one to comfort you. Casey was the one to convince you. She , obviously, knew why you were doubtful – you had already seen one of your mother's marriages decay. However, Casey also knew how to persuade you that George and Nora would remain together, and she was the one that held your hand all through the service.

* * *

You feel sick, telling Nora of this afternoon. You detail how you had returned home slightly early, and checked on Casey. She asks did you notice anything wrong and truthfully, you weren't even paying attention. Your heat beats faster and your eyes well up with watery tears as you try to convince your mum that it isn't your fault.

* * *

You'd offered her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She said no, and that she had lots of homework to do. You left, but you should've noticed because she looked pale, sweaty and she showed many signs of having a fever or being nauseous. Still, you left and you ate your sandwich whilst watching cartoons on the t.v. How stupid had you been? You really should've gone up to check on Casey sooner – like how she always checked on you all the times you've been sick (even in exam period!).

* * *

Except, there is another irony of the situation, it kind of is your fault. You and Edwin prided yourselves on the skill of observation;Casey had always been the oblivious one, yet once again the roles have reversed. Likewise, Casey has always been the fighter, but right now the Doctors are working and unsure if she'll pull through and right now you are the one fighting back tears and fighting your conscience. If things had been slightly different, you can't help but think that it really could've and perhaps would've been you laying in that bed.  
It is just as your debating this that you finally laugh – a crazy, manic and ironic laugh that is somehow able to expand the lump still in your throat so that it actually blocks your airways.

* * *

_Can I ask you to maybe review? More to know if I am wasting my time or if people actually want to read this :) Any kind of feedback is welcomed._

_Disclaimer: If I owned LWD, it certainly would not be on Disney Channel ;)  
_


	2. A mantra to stay strong

_Another chapter to this. I don't know how I feel about it, but it doesn't completely suck? Maybe a little OOC but I wanted to add a bit more depth to it :/_

* * *

You realise you're gripping George's hand so tight that it is going white, but how can you not as Lizzie recalls the afternoon to you. Your breathing is deep, and half of you can't really hear as Lizzie's words slur and everything you have is keeping you from breaking down into tears. You have to be strong. You have to be strong. You have to be strong.

* * *

You cried when you first saw the stick flashing "2-3weeks" at you. You couldn't help it because the oxygen was disappearing and all the plans you had made just decided to set alight. It wasn't even that you didn't want a child, more you didn't want a child with him. You're 26, and it isn't like you're not financially sound for this child but just last week you had made the decision to break up with Dennis. How will you now? It just seems so unfair because suddenly you have to put somebody (this unborn child) before yourself!

* * *

Derek flies through the door and you're confused because you could've sworn that George rang him and told him to stay with Marti and not to worry. How would he not worry? He is white, and looks like he has seen death – is he mirroring what you and Lizzie look like? He is stuttering and panting and falling apart and you are so angry and jealous and totally irrational. He is 17, how is he meant to control this, but it really isn't fair because you can't break down like; everything you have is yelling at you to stay strong.

* * *

You couldn't ever really pinpoint when you started to feel resentment for your little girl. It wasn't like you felt it often because all in all she was beautiful and really the most perfect daughter. You thought it may have started right from when you were first pregnant with her and the feelings have just remained, much like your boring marriage. Then when she was 5 and you told her about the sibling that was coming her way, you realised that a little bit of you verged on hating her. She looked at you expectantly and said that she couldn't wait; she told you how she was so glad that you and daddy loved each other. It was so wrong but your mind screamed at you that it was all her fault that you were stuck like this – it screamed to drown out the whispering about how really you were the one stupid enough to get pregnant in the first place.

* * *

Your world is falling apart. You can't hold it together as you cry. George holds you and tries to whisper comforting words to still your erratic heart beat and the twisting of thoughts in your head that may just happen to be escaping your mouth a little incomprehensibly. Your baby. How could it have come to this? You are her mother, shouldn't you have noticed before this? You read once that mothers have a sixth sense for their children, where was yours? Then again, you knew. It is slowly moving to the front of your mind because you are so guilty – you knew and you ignored because you were too damned selfish to really do anything about it.

* * *

The divorce papers came through the post signed and a weight had been lifted from your chest so that you truly breath for the first time ever. Lizzie had screamed at first and cried, but as soon as you asked dearest Casey to look after her sister she did it, and you were free to enjoy being single. It was so wrong for you to leave Casey, only 11 to look after her sister, but they just reminded you of him and you just wanted to be away from that. It wasn't like you left them completely alone, you did get a babysitter for them. It just so happened that you had more motivation for going out when you met George and started the dating scene once more.

* * *

Lizzie is holding your hand tight and you know you feel the same thing. Guilt. You whisper how it isn't her fault, it wasn't anybody's fault. It is kind of stupid, but you think about blaming Casey in all of this, your 'perfect' daughter – she could've told somebody! Except you were the one she turned to and you're the one now sitting her waiting for her to pull through. The doctor will say it is good news and there will be lots of signs of recovery, for some reason it doesn't ease the pain in your heart because It isn't like you have just one child to worry about recovering in all of this. At that point, the familiar notion of resentment for your ill daughter returns because it was just a little selfish of her to put you under so much pressure and stress. You are truly a horrible mother. . .

* * *

Casey didn't want you to get married to George, which is understandable, but you knew she'd cave as soon as you played the guilt card (and she did).You thought afterwards that perhaps you were being selfish, but you loved George and he was your real chance of full-blown happiness, so you took it. Your daughters hated you a little bit for it, especially when they discovered the living arrangements – George's children – but you knew that as soon as you got Casey on your side it would all work out. Did that class as using your eldest daughter? Possibly, but they could deal with it. It wasn't like Casey didn't overreact and become a drama queen regardless when the marriage was finally settled. She got to be a prima dona partially because you were making it up to her for suing her so that you could get what you wanted.

* * *

You are watching the clock so carefully. Somebody has been to talk to you, a counsellor to let you know what should happen after this. How do any of you even start to get past this? You know and keep imagining how you'll feel every time you look at her. . . she's so broken. You suppose that at least by having somebody telling you how to deal with it it means that Casey will pull through from this. God, you need your baby – how will you survive without your first born?

* * *

Things had been so difficult at first, but by three years after the marriage, things were finally starting to get better. Derek and Casey were fighting less, Lizzie and Edwin were best friends and Marti was like your own child. It was all so good, and you thought nothing could go wrong. You loved George and you loved your family (Derek, Edwin and Marti really were like your own children).

* * *

The baby didn't make it. . . The baby. . . baby. . .  
Casey, your child. You make a choking sound and your heart stops. You think its awful as pain, sorrow and anger rush over your, yet what you are feeling is nothing like what Derek looks like. Tears are streaming down his face, sobs rock his body and you have never loved or hated somebody as much – and he is only a 17 year old boy. It is all his fault. It is all his fault. It is all his fault.

* * *

Casey came to you. She needed advice because she was in love and when you looked at her, looked her in the eye, you realised she really was in love – not just teenage crush love but true love. A little bit of you was suspicious, you knew who it was, but you were pushing that so far away because she was Casey and she wouldn't do that to you. Then she uttered those words about how completely wrong he was for her, how it wasn't in everybody's best interest for them to be together, how it could tear everything apart if they were to not work out. You realised that your worst fears were recognised and you did the unthinkable.  
You told Casey that it wouldn't work. She wasn't really in love and nothing was worth the risk. You convinced her that if she thought they were to unmatched and unsuitable then it could tear the family apart – it truly would. You told Casey that if she loved her family, she wouldn't do it. You didn't fail to notice the way her face dropped. You forgot to not see her biting her lip, looking worried as hell. You realised that this wasn't what she had wanted to hear. You ignored it, because you needed her to not ruin this for you and Lizzie. . . it was really a selfless action, wasn't it?

* * *

You're gripping George's hand despite how the doctor is actually speaking reassuring words about how Casey is doing better and how she is even awake now. Do you want to see her? Your breathing is deep,because you feel your heart is broken in two but you know that you can't break down. You have to get it together because you being selfish is what got you into this. You prepare yourself and speak a little mantra. You have to be strong. You have to be strong. You have to be strong.

* * *

_Disclaimer: If I owned LWD, Michael Seater would have been featured shirtless so often that they'd call me a pervert ;)  
_


	3. A grudge to save a life

You've never really hated anybody. You have always been mild, meek and all too forgiving and thus you can't hold a grudge to save your life. You couldn't ever bring yourself to hate somebody, not matter how angry or sad you have been with them at the time. Somehow, this doesn't help because at this moment you are so venomous and angry that you hate her. Casey might as well go to hell as far as you are concerned – and this is scary because how can you hate somebody who is meant to be your sister and especially when you are meant to visit them in the hospital for the first time since she ended up here?

* * *

When your dad first started dating Nora, you weren't overly happy. It wasn't that you didn't want him to get a 'girlfriend' and move on from your mother – you were over their divorce- but instead it was because Derek was so angry about it. He made your life hell and complained about it all the time, and you had no real idea why. Eventually, you found out it was because if it were ever to turn serious you'd have new step-sibs and then you became pretty angry too. You couldn't help the thoughts that perhaps you, Derek and Marti weren't good enough for your dad, just like you weren't good enough for your mum. It was at that point that you first started to dislike the McDonald sisters – especially Casey when you found out how damn perfect she was. You didn't even bother to remind yourself that you hadn't even met them.

* * *

Its been nearly a week, and your anger hasn't dissipated; the overall sadness of the house hasn't disappeared either. You can't even pinpoint why you are still annoyed with her, because as the therapist and Nora say to keep defending Casey, it wasn't really Casey's fault. It except it is. It is all her fault that Nora, one of the best people you know, looks like she is about to cry every second. It is all her fault that your Dad spends so much time in the basement. It is all her fault that Lizzie has barely eaten anything for a week and that she barely leaves her room. It is all her fault that you and Marti are having to play saviour to the two other kids in the house (Lizzie and Derek). It is all her fault that Dennis is currently living on your sofa. It is all her fault that Derek won't look at anybody but instead just stays in his room, staring at a wall, with a sad playlist continuously on repeat. It is all her fault, and you don't know when, if ever you'll be able to forgive her.

* * *

You knew you'd get on well with Lizzie as soon as you met her because she was to Casey as you were to Derek – a complete slave. You bonded from the first evening, as you both shared how much you disliked your older siblings, because they just weren't all that caring. However, you knew, even then, that Lizzie loved her sister more than anything else (probably including Nora as well). Still, you shared horror stories and you realised that you kind of wanted to meet Casey because she could've sure shown Derek up and put him in his place. Just like that, you'd started to scheme with Lizzie.

* * *

You are sitting at dinner, and it is as awkward as it has been for the past week. There is no empty spot opposite Derek because Dennis occupies that seat, next to Lizzie. Derek refuses to look up and Lizzie is just shifting food around her plate, opposite you. You see your dad grimacing slightly as Dennis talks about the visit after dinner whilst Nora looks tearful. Marti is sitting next to Derek, brushing his hand every so often in a comforting manner. You are thinking about how much you hate Casey again. You shouldn't hate her. You know that, after all, the afternoon in therapy was meant to help you with these feelings. Still, as you watch the broken family scene in front of you, this dark feeling seeps in, and that is why you are now calmly standing and telling a heartbroken Nora that you won't be at the hospital this evening. You try to escape before anybody questions why you don't want to see Casey because you don't want to voice what everybody is thinking.

* * *

You didn't know when something changed. You couldn't pinpoint the moment when something shifted between your older siblings – you had thought of Casey as a true sibling for quite a while. You knew that Derek and Casey never viewed each other as brother and sister; they never would. However, one day, you realised that they weren't fighting like they used to. You then started to observe how they seemed friendly and you'd catch them together just talking.

* * *

Then, just as suddenly as it had first occurred, it was awkward between them. They were avoiding each other and Derek was giving her a death glare whenever he saw her, and he was making your life a misery. Casey wouldn't leave her room, and although you made your observations, you weren't in it like you first were. Lizzie had a boyfriend now and you were getting with Michelle so who really cared about Casey's drama? You didn't have time for her overreactions because Michelle was enough of a drama queen for you.

* * *

You arrange with Marti that instead of both focussing on both siblings that were hurting you'll both focus on just one. You'll take Lizzie because you get her and are close to her age and are just generally closer to her than Marti is. Marti will take Derek because he is her Smerek and just simply because. It kills you to see Lizzie. You open the door and try to talk to her, but eventually she just breaks down into tears. You hold her as she pores her heart to you. She explains everything Casey has done for her. She explains how guilty she feels. She explains how angry she is at Casey. She tells you what your dad refused to – what actually happened.

* * *

You had been up, trying to finish a last minute project that you hadn't done because Michelle had rang at the last moment and wanted to talk to you. You'd fallen asleep at your computer before an alarm that you'd set for every hour to keep you awake went off. It had been 5am and you heard movement outside, downstairs. You opened your door ever so slightly and sneaked downstairs. You saw Casey at the toilet (she'd left the door open) and she had been throwing up and you'd seen the cries. You knew you should've done something but as she wiped her mouth and muttered some pretty incomprehensible stuff, you'd remembered your project and realised you really didn't want to fail the class like Derek had.

* * *

You don't really hate Casey, you decide. You are still angry at her, especially when you see your family so shattered, but you don't really hate her. You don't wish she'd die, like you did before, and that is comforting to know. You still think she is selfish and oblivious and pretty damn stupid, but you are a little closer to understanding that you were. You can't quite bring yourself to visit her yet, because you know if you do you'll scream at her and just make everything worse. However, you do want her to get better, and you want everybody to recover from this. It is pretty much proved that you cannot hold a grudge to save your life, and you are a little relieved because you are still the same as you have always been and you are glad you don't have to hate Casey for breaking you as well as Nora and Lizzie and Derek.

* * *

_I reckon you all know who this was. Third chapter. I can't tell you when the next update will be – especially considering I am entering exam season (where exams are literally deciding my future) so. . ._


	4. A niggling voice of blame

You are watching Marti play with Dimi, and you are pacing and you are so worried. You are smiling a large, fake smile towards the two youngsters and feel relieved when they ask you to join them – they need a third bear for the tea party that Marti decided to have. You can still hear part of your brain screaming that it is your fault, and that how can you just sit there putting on funny voices. You can still feel the niggling of guilt that you should've known better. You ignore it as you try to make the 7 year olds laugh with Mr Brown Bear making funny remarks.

* * *

Derek Venturi was your first best friend because he lived next to you for as long as you could remember. You'd always played with him because your parents used to babysit him, but it wasn't until he was held back a year that you became best friends with him. You used to play for hours and hours and he'd laugh at everything you'd say. Then he met Sam, and they were both your best friends. It was you three, and Ralph every so often, against the entire world, and it was so awesome.

* * *

The clock hands are moving too damn slow for your liking and you are stuck, standing in the hall, alone next to her locker. You can't help but think that this time last week there was Casey, opening her locker and getting her books. It is mocking you, and you are stuck thinking that this is the longest time between periods ever. You also think that people really need to realise that as a gossipmonger yourself, you have a highly acute hearing – meaning you can hear every word that people are saying, and you really don't like the rumours. You gulp and decided that maybe being 5 minutes early to your next lesson isn't so bad, even if you detest French.

* * *

Middle school turned up too quickly for you liking, and you hated it. Over the summer, you found that there suddenly became a cool and uncool list – and you had just so happened to land on the uncool list. It wouldn't have been so bad, your unpopularity, if the three friends you could've truly turned to weren't placed on the cool list. Well, Derek had been put top of the friggin' list whilst Sam and Ralph somehow managed to tag along, seeing as they were deemed not too bad. Suddenly, you had become friendless and uncool and nobody wanted to talk to you. That first year, you learnt to gossip about those who are popular as you yourself simply yearned for the stardom that your ex-friends now have.

* * *

You find yourself crying as you get an assignment back that you completed 2 months ago. The class is looking at you as if you've lost your marbles but you can't help but sob louder as you see the big, red A mocking you at the top of the page. You can feel the teacher's cool hand on your back, telling you it is okay if you go to see Paul, because it has been so hard for you, but you feel disconnected. You somehow find yourself standing up and moving out the room, yet you have no real idea where you are going, especially considering you have abandoned your bag and stuff in Mrs Flemmings classroom. Still, as you push through the doors, you know you just want to run away from that stupid mark that is written next to the title: "Dear person I hate more than anything else. . ."

* * *

The first time you met Casey, you had felt bad for her. She may have been quite pretty and nice on the eyes, but everything about her screamed dork and keener. You thought – no, knew – that she would have a hard time making friends, and you'd been down that road. That is why you had spoken to her. As soon as you realised your cool factor you tried to leave her, again, you'd been down that road. The thing that kept her as your friend? Derek. You still wanted him, still needed him to be your friend. You stayed.

The nurse is leading you to Casey's room, which she of course has as private because even in hospital, she has to have her own way. You feel super bitchy for thinking that, especially considering you are trying to make amends; you've been a crappy friend recently. Then you're left by the nurse to stare at the door, scared of what you'll find behind it. You know that it'll likely be bad, and you are so worried because you feel so damn responsible for it all. You are an awful friend, and you don't really deserve Casey's forgiveness, because even at her worst, she wasn't horrible to you. Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, ready to face the music and eat a slice of humble pie.

* * *

A little part of you knew that you had begun to hate Casey a little. Maybe not hate, but you had definitely resented her a little. She worked hard for her grades, but when you worked twice as hard, you still didn't do half as well as her. She was really pretty, but when you spent twice as long on your appearance, you still didn't get as much attention from boy's. She was pretty likeable, but when you were twice as sociable as she was, you still didn't have more friends.  
It was pretty silly, your increased annoyance aimed towards Casey, because it had been two friends and she hadn't yet let you down. You got on well, and Casey didn't even realise that she was so damn perfect. You pushed it to the back of your head and ignored it. Even if Casey got everything you wanted, you knew that you overall won because you got to have the one thing Casey truly yearned for – you had a shot with Derek.

* * *

"You look like death!"  
Your eyes automatically widen as your hands fly to cover your mouth. You are so damn stupid. Obviously, you have known that you were never book smart, academic smart, but this, really? You are cursing yourself, calling yourself all the names under the sun. Casey looks like she is about to cry and you start to apologise when a noise escapes her mouth, and then another. Just as you are about to try to apologise again you realise she is laughing. She is laughing harder and harder and you find it is pretty infectious because you want to laugh with her, and so you do. You are both laughing like hyenas, and really, this isn't a laughable situation.

* * *

When Casey told you, you laughed. You couldn't help it because the prospect was so ridiculous. Did she seriously expect you to believe that her and Derek could do anything other than hate each other? However, when you were coming up for air, because you lungs hurt from the last minute of non-stop laughing, you noticed her face. It had been serious, straight and just a little sad – as if she was about to cry. As you had taken in her appearance you realised that perhaps this wasn't a laughing matter at all, and you immediately felt the laugh in your throat die.  
You stared at her because it couldn't really be true, could it?  
Suddenly, where the laugh had been moments prior, bile had replaced it. You looked at her, and you thought your face may have mirrored hers because tears sprung to your eyes. She opened her mouth and a hell of a lot of word-vomit had fallen out, spewing across your bedroom floor, over your shoes and over your friendship. None of it meant anything. None of it mattered.  
Then, it had merged. Comedy turned into tragedy, in the blink of an eye. Then in changed again, into a horror. You shouted and shouted at her, because you couldn't believe that she would willingly break girl code. She knew you liked him, from day one she knew. Still she went and slept with him. Didn't she get that he was yours? If anybody could've sleep with Derek, it should have been you! He was yours first.  
After she had left, in tears, following after all the shouting you did, you too cried. You threw stuff at the wall, tore up the picture you had always had of the two of you on your side. As you watched her picture burn, a thought haunted you, you too had broken girl code because wasn't it always friends before boys?

* * *

You are apologising for the mess you created over 4 months ago, and well it is long overdue. You look to her when you're finished, expecting the worse; Casey always was a drama queen. She looks up at you, and you realise she is far more broken than you had ever anticipated. You expect the worse even more now, you clearly helped to crack her heart into pieces, along with countless others, when she simply tells you that she forgives you. You look at her, uncomprehending. She tells you again, that she doesn't blame you, not really and then you feel the tears fall down your cheeks because this is really more than you deserve.

* * *

You'd seen her, staring at Derek across the hall, standing right outside **your** locker. Something had ignited inside you, and if you were really analysing it, you would've said it was jealousy, but you decided it was just simply anger. Casey McDonald was flaunting her and Derek in your face, and she had made a fool of you. You had always thought yourself her best friend, and that you knew everything about her, but really she was just a slut.  
Consumed with anger, you turned around the hallway and used the only skill you really had. You'd walked straight up to Amy, who still hated Casey, and told Casey's dirty little secret. You pushed back the thoughts of her last 2 years of friendship, because they clearly meant nothing to her. Soon the whole school would know that Casey had tried to seduce Derek, because she was into incest, obviously.

* * *

You cry and tell her everything. You tell her all your part in the school isolation and more importantly, you tell her why. You put everything you have on the line, all your emotional memories and psychological traits into telling her everything, because she deserves that much. She deserves more than what you gave her in your jealous state so many months ago, and she deserves more than she received from you when you realised you were wrong but it was too far to go back.  
In turn, after you've finished crying and explaining and telling and giving, and after she has finished reassuring you, she tells you everything on her side to. You can tell she leaves out some parts, and you realise they are probably too painful to remember. She lets you know everything that has happened in the last few months, and you think you get it.

* * *

Derek confronted you a month or two after it the rumours had first started to circulate. He cornered you as you were removing books from your locker on a Friday, after everybody had left. He stood in front of you, and you finally noticed how the scruffy-hot look he normally sported had turned more just-scruffy if not a little dishevelled.  
He told you that you were wrong to victimise Casey. He told you that you made him a hero and that isn't how it happened. He told you that Casey needed you more than ever, and if you did truly 'love' him like you claimed then you would help her. You didn't know why he bothered, and you told him as much, because if he truly gave a damn, why didn't he correct anybody about the rumours? At that point, he shook his head, turned from you and walked away.  
It wasn't until you arrived home that you saw him, still in his car, just staring at the garage door in front of him. You began to approach him until you were close enough to hear the music and you realised he wasn't staring, but crying. You let him be.

* * *

Eventually, as visiting hours in the hospital close, you turn to say goodbye and catch a glimpse of your best friend. You close the door, softly, having promised to return tomorrow with the latest gossip magazines full of scandal, you see him. You think Derek may have been outside prior to your visit, but the guilt was all too consuming for you to notice. You look at him, and realise you have some more explaining to do, because he too deserves more than you gave him. The little part of your brain is still niggling as the 2nd person that day forgives you for your unforgivable actions in business that you really shouldn't have had an input. Somehow though, the voices are easier to block out because new voices are telling you how to change your life once and for all, for the better.

* * *

_Okay, that was a reallyREALLY long chapter, but I felt like Emily had a heck of a storyline in this. I know that I haven't exactly revealed much more, and I meant to but. . . I'll tell you more in the next chapter?  
Can I ask you to please review? I have suddenly become more paranoid about my writing (there is some pretty poorly written fanfiction out there and I really don't want mine to be like that). . .  
Also, I ask you to forgive me for any OOC-ness. I am trying to explain all the character actions to show why I'm making them OOC, and I know Casey is a major one. . . just wait until her Chapter at the end, I promise it will explain **everything!**  
_


	5. A lightness to the bitterness

You sit across the table, looking at Derek, and sitting next to your youngest daughter, Lizzie. You push away the memory of the last time you had been here when a fire had broken out and you had been brought back by the boy in front of you that had the brown hair and eyes. You thought how much more enjoyable Nora's meal would be if you could hear the laughter of your daughter, but you have been to many a therapy session at this point, and know that the likelihood of her returning to this current scenario unscathed and happy is pretty low. It kills you inside.

* * *

When Nora told you she was pregnant with a child, you didn't really believe it. You had always been so careful, always using contraception and just avoiding the chance of pregnancy, though apparently not enough. You had to admit that you hadn't wanted to be tied down, you were only 28 and still trying to reach partner status at your law firm. Similarly, you had always pictured settling down to be with somebody that just wasn't Nora – she was just somebody for you to have a fling with, if you were being honest. A few weeks prior the decision had been made to break up with her, though you were attempting to do it gently when she broke the bomb-shell. Still, you accepted fate, and decided that for the sake of your reputation, your future child and Nora a marriage proposal was on the table; bitterness didn't really appear until the word "Yes" escaped Nora's lips in response to the ring you pushed across the table towards her.

* * *

The words of Casey in the therapist's room are repeating themselves, over and over and over in your head, creating a loop. You are laying on the sofa, acting as a bed whilst you are temporarily staying at the McDonald-Venturi house, and all you can hear, other than the dripping taps from the connecting kitchen, is the whispering of Casey from earlier that evening. Self-hate and guilt are eating you alive as your mind punctuates each word further than Casey would ever say. You are wondering if Casey had meant each words to effectively render you not only speechless but fill you with a remorse that makes you want to explode – knowing Casey, probably not. Still, the outcome of the session earlier if you now having a burning need to escape and run away, because you can't help but blame yourself for everything. With this, you fall into a fitful sleep, filled with those words that are plaguing your every sense.  
"I've always been told that if you can't do something right, don't bother at all. . . I wasn't doing this right!"

* * *

You hadn't felt the same bitterness at the birth of your second child, you second daughter. Instead, you felt a rush of warmth and devotion to the bundle that Nora had held in her arms, knowing that this was love without strings, like the last time you stood on the maternity ward in a hospital. It was wrong, you were aware of that, as you looked at the blue-eyed, smiling 5 year old child that asked if she could hold her tiny sister, the best sister in the world.  
When Casey had been born, not only had you felt a little remorse at the situation, but you couldn't stop the niggling chip of blame as well as the whispering in your mind that she was an inconvenience and a burden. When Lizzie was born, you had felt only a sense of fulfilment because it was completely natural. In fact, as you held your second daughter for the first time, you think you feel love for Nora for the first time in your life, and it is shocking; when Casey had been born, only bitterness was quietly directed towards Nora, not love like this. Similarly, you then caught site of Casey, she had been glancing, on tip toes, over your arm to look at the bundle of happiness in your arms, and as wrong as it was, you knew that you'd never love the two girls in the same way.  
You didn't doubt that you loved Casey, she was half you, after all, but you couldn't ever push the bitterness of it being her that trapped you into a loveless, unhappy relationship, and so the love was never really appeared completely unconditional. You were instantaneously playing favourites with your children, and it was not working to your eldest's favour.

* * *

You're awoken by a loud crash from behind you, startling out of your slumber – and if you're honest, that isn't such a bad thing. Waiting for your heart to slow slightly, allowing it to return to normal rates of beat by taking deep breaths, and as laying still as possible, you listen. The tap turns, the creak making it obvious, before a rush of water sounds. Moving slowly, you get up and head to the dark kitchen.  
At the doorway, you glance in, seeing a figure bent over the breakfast bar, his shoulders clearly slumped forward. You are just about to say something when the figure moves, and you catch his face as he turns and his face becomes illuminated. Derek looks distraught, and you aren't sure if that is because it is exaggerated by the low lighting that is coming in via the living room from the outside street lamps, or if the boy is truly feeling that much pain. Then, just as loud as before, the glass he was holding slipped from his hand, landing on the floor, and just like before, you feel yourself jump and your heartbeat increase with the startlement.  
You watch on, unsure as to what to say, as Derek swipes the dustpan and brush from the breakfast bar before bending down. It is followed by the sound of glass clunking, and you feel a little confused, partially because this is the early hours of the morning.  
Again, you finally form a sentence in your head, a comforting one, to tell him that you are all feeling the same, and you move across the threshold into the room. Then, as you are able to see the top of his head, and his face, you hear the dry retching and heaving emitted by the boy. His shoulders are shaking and the sobs are coming heavy and loud, and you are immediately stumped as to what to do. It is suddenly clear to you that perhaps you aren't all feeling the same, because you are pretty damn sure that Derek is feeling this a lot harder than you or Nora and maybe even Lizzie.

* * *

As soon as the divorce papers had been filed and sent to you, you'd left, without a backwards glance. Okay, that wasn't true because you had thought about your two daughters and their lives, but somehow that hadn't been enough to have stopped you moving 500 miles to New York. Okay, that wasn't true because you had actually filed for custody of your youngest daughter, Lizzie. However, that had looked like it would be unsuccessful considering Nora had fought tooth and nail to keep her, claiming custody over your favourite child. It struck you as odd though that Nora was quite happy to offer you sole custody of the elder of the two girls. It struck you as even odder that it seemed you and Nora had found common ground once again, and it was similar to before, the inconvenience and burden of Casey. Guilt should really have eaten you alive when you not only rejected custody of Casey, even when you continued access to Lizzie but when Casey and Lizzie both found out. Instead, you brushed it off, and tried to ignore any of the niggling voices reminding you that Casey was your daughter too, and that your blatant shunning had slowly turned her into an attention-seeking perfectionist as she hoped to gain your affections over the years.

* * *

You are glancing at the boy who is hunched over the breakfast bar once again, not in a dissimilar manner to the night prior. His hair is as messy, face as pale and distraught but within the brighter light of morning, he looks so much more dishevelled – there is clearly a touch of stubble on his chin and jaw where he obviously hasn't shaved, as well as a ruffled look to his clothes, despite them being new to this morning. You are hit with the feeling of being far too pulled together, clearly not hurting about your daughter being in the hospital as much as the 17 year old. A thought hits you out of nowhere, do you love Casey as much as Derek does?  
Your thoughts are torn from that, however, as George enters, causing a strained tension in the room when Derek tenses. George for his part acts like he doesn't notice, and you observe as he opens the cupboard holding the glasses. You stop being the hopeless observer but mould into role of liar, or you prefer to think of it as protector, when George questions where two glasses have gone, and knowing that it was his own son's 'carelessness' you jump to say it was in fact your clumsiness. You aren't sure if it because you think Derek is under enough stress already, or if it is simply because you've always had a soft spot for the boy, but its enough.

* * *

You knew you should've spent more time with Casey, and reminded her that you love her unconditionally, especially with all the fuss she went to to make sure the evening was 'perfect' (although it had turned out to be quite disasterous). That wasn't how the it all panned out, though. Instead, you spent the time with your youngest, barely letting her out of the hug that had been initiated, as well as the children on the Venturi family. Your daughter had been slaving away in the kitchen, trying to make everything the best it could be, and instead of even thinking about her, you had simply warmed to children that weren't even yours, most notably Derek Venturi.  
To be honest, you hadn't even really spared a thought for Casey and how she may feel until said boy that had charmed you all evening, made you think that a boy would've been better to have as an eldest child, the one that was an entrapment originally. When the person that supposedly loathed Casey rang and told you that she was crying and that you had to come back, it really should've been the first indicator, and not an indicator as to you being a bad father (there had been many warnings for that throughout the 15 years of Casey's life). As your had rushed back, you didn't even think that perhaps the fighting was a front for something.

* * *

The silence is killing you, you can admit that much. The radio in the car stopped working a while ago, according to the brown-eyed, brown-haired boy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, and so there is just an unnerving quiet with no conversation filling it. You glance at the boy that could quite possibly have been the cause of this (the child that she miscarried had to have a father, right?) and for the first time of the last 10 minutes of journey notice his hands shaking – should he really be driving in a state like this? You ask him if he is okay, and you know that he is obviously not. Your suspicions are proved correct when he ignores the question, denying you his real thoughts, but instead thanks you for covering his back this morning about the glasses. You tell him it is no problem, and then, because the moment takes you, ask him about your daughter (the eldest, least loved one).  
As he tells your story after story, from her days as Klutzilla to the musical that never should've been, you don't fail to notice the way his eyes brighten, or how his face lights up a little, shedding away the fragility to his look that he has been deigning. He tells you all the stories that you never bothered to ask the girl featuring in them, Nora or Lizzie – he is telling you about a girl that if you are honest you barely know and rarely bothered to get to know. He recounts all these stories, pouring his heart into the memories, it is clear with the way he laughs at certain things (like the first time she tried to lie and ended up writing an essay about dogs), and you don't object when instead of entering the hospital car park, he goes around the block a couple more times.

* * *

The call from Nora shocked you, it was only 4pm in London, Canada, and you would've thought she had been working. You weren't left wondering however, when Nora not only cut straight to the chase. Casey was in hospital.  
You dropped the phone, so unsure as to what to do, because you would never have thought your own child capable of such a thing. Then again, what parents actually expect to be heading towards a hospital, towards a comatose child? Despite the shock, and the feelings of guilt that rush over you, you weren't there, and you really should've been, considering you had been yet to return her call from a week before.  
Still, you promised Nora that you'd be there as soon as possible, you hung up the phone, booked plane tickets and rushed to her side. It was probably the definition of "too little, too late" but it was the best your could do in the circumstances.

* * *

You enter into the private room that you are currently paying for, it is the least you can do for her, considering all the ill-doings you have previously bestowed upon her since she was just a fetus. She looks better than she did a week ago, when you first arrived 2 days after the accident. Despite this, she is still hurting, it is so clear from the sad look in her eyes and the slight bags under her eyes; in retrospect, it is an obvious conclusion considering that less than two weeks ago, the girl in front of you, your eldest daughter, attempted to take her own life.  
You decide there that you will focus on the positive (she had been unsuccessful), and you fully commit to helping her through this. You sit in the seat, and muster up enough courage to not only apologise for missing her phone call, but asking her what she wanted. When she tells you that she was going to ask to move in with you, you are shocked, and then ask for the whole story.  
Eventually, she finishes telling you the tale up to her attempted suicide, completely glossing over sections you are sure – you noticed there was no explanation to the child she had carried for 3, or so, months. The feelings of guilt and remorse are back, but also with a little hope. She is open and willing to get better, to approach with an honesty that will help the healing process.  
You finish talking, and leave. When you are out the door, you see Derek, sitting in the same spot as where you left him when you entered. You allow him to know that Casey is still strong enough, and awake enough to have visitors, but instead, he shakes his head. You shrug your shoulders and leave him sitting there, waiting for him to have the courage to face the broken girl you fully believe he is in love with (and to you have no idea how long it will take for him to find that kind of bravery, so far he has had a week and a half yet all he does is sit outside her room, watching others visit, reconcile and then leave, for 8 hours a day). You can only hope he does it soon, knowing that it took you a little too long and you wish you had done it sooner, considering how much lighter you now feel.

* * *

_As you can probably tell, I have really been working on length of my stories etc. Anyway, this was actually a lot easier to than most of the others, and I actually loved Dennis – as much of a dick I made him become. Still, I hope I did him justice and characterised him okay (who really knows what his character is truly like?). _

_Review?_


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